The cobblestone streets were bordered by tall, shading oak trees. Sweeping front porches of whitewashed houses were draped in fragrant honeysuckle vines. Ladies in pastel-colored dresses twirled parasols over their heads as they strolled along the boardwalks. And men lifted their top hats politely as the stage wagon rolled by. She also found the downtown area delightful. The buildings were made of bright red brick. Painted letters on the big glass windows proclaimed Dry Goods and Hardware stores, banks, undertakers, printers, feed stores, and apothecaries. The stage driver reined in the horses in front of a livery stable. At the last rest station, Ryan had selected a pink taffeta dress from one of Angele’s trunks and asked her to wear it for the final leg of the journey. It had a high collar, pouffed sleeves, and a huge skirt that required starched, stiff petticoats beneath. It was terribly hot and uncomfortable, and she also didn’t like the ruffled bonnet that complemented the dress.
